


Saved

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Young Guns (Movies)
Genre: A Guy Dies But He Isn't A Main Character, Don't Worry. Brief Semi-Graphic Description Of A Dead Guy., Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24253555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Doc is forced to kill somebody to save Tunstall and is troubled by it.  Tunstall and Chavez help.
Relationships: Jose Chavez y Chavez/Josiah "Doc" Scurlock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Saved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elamae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elamae/gifts).



_Bang!_

Chavez turned, one hand already clutching a knife, eyes searching, ready to attack, ready to do whatever needed, staring at each startled, each confused, each displeased face until he followed Tunstall and His startled gaze and found himself staring at a dirty, ragged man who, in spite of a malnourished body that spoke loudly of starvation, had obviously been going for Tunstall, right behind where the old man had been, still clutching a thin pen knife and with a good chunk of His Face missing. Blood was already pooling on the old, battered floorboards, slipping into the cracks, staining the wood. Chavez's ears were ringing, and there was still a sense of danger, thick in the air, but there was nobody else coming at Tunstall, just a whole bunch of townspeople standing far, far away like He was sick, like those kind eyes, which were widened slightly in shock, were narrowed in anger and like there was a Gun in Tunstalls' empty hands. 

It wasn't too hard to guess who'd been the one to end one life and save another, with Doc not too far away, His Rifle still held pointed to where The Mystery Man once stood, finger still on the trigger, chest rising and falling faster than it should've. Slowly, Doc lowered The Rifle and seemed to shrink in on himself, looking at Tunstall as if aaking, 'What do I do?' 

Chavez didn't trust anybody not to suddenly rush at them, so He kept His Knife in plain view, clutched in His Hand as a silent warning, inching closer to Tunstall, just in case somebody else tried their weight in what somebody had died trying to do. Somewhere, A Kid was crying, wailing, actually, but Chavez couldn't find it within himself to care much, figuring that its Mother or somebody else was nearby that could help it, seeing as how precarious this situation was. Tunstalls' eyes flicked to The Man, then lifted to address the people gathered in a loose semi circle around them. "I am dearly sorry." He said, His Voice calm in spite of the growing awkwardness and tension. "This is not how I wanted this visit to go, but it appears he was coming at me with intent." Tunstall looked at Doc, then, and there was an answering nod that made strands of hair fall into Doc's eyes, which looked weary and guarded, now. "Please understand that there wasn't a want to kill, but my charge here didn't have much time to shoot elsewhere." Tunstall went to say more, but then a portly man whom Chavez recognized but who's name escaped His Memory stepped up and spoke in a low but audible voice. "You best be going now, Tunstall, word travels fast." There was something else, a pointed tone, an urgency. "You don't want to be here when it arrives at its destination." 

\----

"What happened?" Immediately, Dick knew something was off, His Eyes suspicious and intent on Tunstall, grip tight around the reigns of His Horse. Chavez really wished He hadn't asked so brazenly, so suddenly, with the way Doc tensed at the question that came without much wait. 

Tunstall didn't hesitate with the answer that came out as smooth as honey. "A bit of trouble, as it is. You know how things are, Master Richard, troublesome and with the lack of food this summer." Tunstall emphasised that with a look around at their meager crops, most of which were dead or hanging on by a thread. It was pathetic, but everything that could've been done had been, attempts to save them falling flat. "We just had a run-in with somebody suffering more than the rest." Tunstall sounded saddened, and Dick furrowed his eyebrows, as if the answer was so complicated. "I'll explain later on," was then added as Tunstall nodded for Doc as He climbed down from His Seat, "If you'll come with me, please. I do believe talking would help ease your mind, if at least slightly." Tunstall had purposefully gentled his voice into a paternal sort of tone, and it suited him, Chavez couldn't help but think. Chavez couldn't help but wonder why Tunstall hadn't had any children, or married. Or maybe He had. It wasn't any of His business, anyhow.

Doc nodded and followed Tunstall to the house, walking much slower, probably trying to stall. Chavez watched as He left, wanting to do something but knowing it'd have to wait, trusting Tunstall with this and knowing that Doc needed the guidance for what had obviously troubled him like it had. Chavez knew that Doc had trouble with things that others didn't, that Steve or Dick would've done without question and gone without much trouble with. Maybe it was because Doc was raised differently, or believed different things, or had just been made that way, a poet among killers. Not that Dick or anybody else, besides Steve, who had always been an exception, would've enjoyed to kill. No, far from it. But Doc just seemed different. 

"He's always been like that, as far as I can remember. I think it'd be best for Doc himself to tell you why, if He's so inclined." Dick said, without prompting, and Chavez turned to look at Him, startled, knowing He hadn't spoken aloud. Somewhere in the distance, Charlie let out a startled yell and Steve cackled. 

Dick only smiled.

\----

"He said it wasn't my fault." 

Doc had spoken out of the blue, and Chavez didn't look up, but He could tell Doc knew He was listening, straining to hear Doc's soft voice above the sound of the pigs and their feed being poured into the trough. "I just did it to defend him." Doc added, after a moment, And Chavez wouldn't have believed otherwise. Doc wasn't even comfortable when one of the animals was taken into the barn and killed for meat. 

Doc didn't say anything else. Chavez set down the bag he'd been carrying, dropping it to the ground while Doc carefully avoided any eye contact like it'd kill him if initiated. That was one of the best things about this blossoming relationship, this tentative agreement for trust and promise and _love, is it love?_

"Is there anything else?" Chavez asked, and Doc hesitated for a split second, where the world seemed to tilt on the ledge, threatening to fall and split open on the ground below. 

Doc winced and lowered his hat. "I used to be part of a gang. After I got kicked out of Medical School. After I got desperate, they seemed like the only option. And they didn't have any..qualms about killing." 

And Chavez didn't have why Doc didn't go back home, then, because He felt that asking would just open up an old wound for Doc, who seemed pensive and nervous. He didn't ask why he left, how he left, knew those weren't questions for now. 

Making sure nobody was near, Chavez rested his hand upon Doc's. "It doesn't matter. You were a kid, you were looking for some sort of help in a world that you didn't have anybody in." There was no question about that. No doubt. Chavez felt Doc's eyes meet his, And it was enough. 

"It wasn't your fault." 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know this one isn't very good. I'm sorry, I tried.


End file.
